Game Over
by BakuBakuRemix
Summary: Do you want to restart from last save point? Yes/No


Midnight. The thin, white haired teen rolled over for the umpteenth time that night, sighing as the numbers stared back at him, burning his tired eyes with the light.

He should have been happy that his 'roommate' wasn't home yet. He could get a good nights sleep for once.

Yet, here we was, tossing and turning in the night, apprehension rising in his heart. It was not for his sake that he was worried, but anyone else that his yami might have come upon in the night, doing … whatever it was that he did on these late night endeavors of his.

Ryou ran a hand over his thoroughly scarred cheeks, sighing. How normal had this become, that he could think of it so casually. The pale boy ran a hand down his neck, feeling the welts beneath his fingers, the heavy wounds still trying to heal along his collar bone. He stopped, breathing slowly as he dropped his wandering hand beside him on the soft mattress.

He had lost the fear of his yami a long time ago, though he made quite an effort every day to make the spirit believe he had not. This was just something common now, nothing to get worked up about.

Ryou still had his dignity, and his yami could not take that from him, not matter how he hurt him. He would not dull his spirit, no matter how many scars he had to wear.

_This was all a game_. The boy thought, sitting up in the dark room, dangling his feet over the edge of the bed. Sleep would not be coming tonight, it seemed. His darker side's games had become nothing but a part of his daily life, nothing more, nothing less. So what if he lost a little more blood each day? Not a big deal, he was still himself. He still had his own thoughts, his own feelings. He could play the game just as well as his yami could.

Ryou looked up as he heard the apartment door open, his eyes straining to see in the darkness. "Bakura?" He said quietly, not that it could be anyone else, the boy was simply letting his yami know he was there, and awake.

"Yadonushi." The stronger voice of his yami called from the hallway, as if in greeting. But, Ryou knew of course, it was not a hello.

Ryou sighed bitterly. _Here we begin the game again_, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pushing himself off of the bed and standing, walking lazily into the hallway.

The spirit was leaning against the wall beside the door, grinning as Ryou exited his bedroom. "You're up late." He said dryly, his hair was caked with blood, his clothing soaked in what appeared to be the same substance. _What has he done now?_ Ryou wondered, annoyed.

"I am." Ryou replied, holding up his chin. He wasn't really in the mood to play this little game.

"_What_?" The voice of his yami was harsh, as he glared sidelong at his host.

Bakura had been waiting. Waiting for the perfect time to break the boy before his eyes. He knew that Ryou had been faking, knew that every day, when Ryou would plead, cry and whimper for him to stop, that he had been acting. What a bad actor he was. Funny, that the boy thought he could fool him at all.

_Still, have to keep up appearances. _Bakura thought smugly. Little did his host know, tonight would not be a game. Tonight, Bakura had tired of his host's petty arrogance. The games would end, now.

Ryou rolled his eyes in his mind, sighing feebly as he dropped his eyes to the floor. "I-I'm sorry." He mumbled. "I-I know I'm up late.."

As if to reply, Bakura's hands grasped the boy's slender throat in his hands, holding a small smile on his lips. "You shouldn't speak so casually." Bakura's voice was monotonous. He had tired of this game, but could keep up his end for the moment.

_Oh, Jesus, this _again_?_ Ryou complained, breathing easily through his yami's loose grip. _You'd think he'd think of more interesting things, honestly_. He held his breath, squeaking in false terror as he watched his yami's empty expression. _Does this get you off, Bakura? Too bad I'm faking it._

_You're horrible at this, yadonushi._ Bakura's thoughts were laced heavily with boredom, as he released his host's neck. "Smarten up."

Ryou held back a sigh of annoyance. "S-sorry.." He said again, keeping his voice feeble.

They had both tired of each others games. Ryou was sick of the abuse, the constant need to put on another face. Bakura, of his host's petty attempts to make a fool out of him.

Ryou slumped into the wall, sighing quietly to himself as Bakura watched him, mimicking his posture.

The boy's double shook his head after a few quiet moments, turning into the kitchen and making a racket with the dishes in the cupboards as he searched for something to eat. _The game ends tonight, yadonushi._

Ryou rolled his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head as his yami had done. "I'm going to bed." He muttered, not caring about what Bakura's lame response would be this time. He knew them all off the top of his head now, anyway.

Bakura shrugged his host's words off, digging some leftover steak out of the fridge and plopping it sloppily onto a plate as he moved to the kitchen table. _Whatever, little Ryou. Say what you want._

Ryou collapsed heavily onto his bed, glancing at the red numbers on the clock. _All that crap had taken half an hour? Geez._

He yawned, burying his face in his pillow as he fell easily to sleep, not realizing how tired he had been after all.

Bakura rose after finishing his plate, his eyes distant as he thought, walking silently into his host's room.

_Asleep already, _Bakura muttered to himself.

This game had gotten out of hand. _He should not be able to sleep while I am here. Should not be awake when I am gone. Poor little Princess, your mind isn't in the right place, and for this, I apologize._

The darker half crossed the room to their shared closet, pushing away his host's school uniforms and digging into the back of the tiny compartment, pulling out a large box. He opened it, grinning in the darkness as he pulled out four thick lengths of rope. "I've been waiting to use these..so long." he whispered to them.

It had not been the time, of course. This was not a part of his game.

Ryou slept deeply, not even noticing when Bakura had tied his feet and hands to the posts of his bed, or when Bakura had noisily pulled one of their small kitchen knives from the drawers.

He did, however, notice the freezing waves of water that hit him, his eyes snapping open in surprise as he shuddered. "What!" He demanded, his arms and legs feeling deadened by sleep. The boy sputtered noisily, coughing harshly to clear his lungs of water. "What are you _doing!_" He lolled his head back against his now soaking wet pillow. _God, not this again, come on. I was sleeping._

The boy moved to flip his soaked pillow over, realizing after a moment that he was bound completely.

_Well, this was something new_, he commented to himself.

Bakura stood beside the bed, the now empty bucket still in his hands, a smirk creeping across his features. "Waking you up, obviously." Bakura snapped, dropping the bucket on the floor with a clatter.

_You have no idea what you're in for, little Ryou. I'm done playing._

_Yeah, duh. _Ryou said to himself, plastering his face with the false fear that he had so many times before.

"Ah. That isn't needed anymore, yadonushi." Bakura said dully. "Stop it."

"S-stop what?" Ryou whispered, wondering what the hell his yami was going on about.

"Faking, idiot."

For some reason, being referred to like that actually hurt the bound boy. "I-I-I'm not f-faking anything..." Ryou said, pushing fear into his voice.

"It is getting rather old." Bakura said, his voice toneless. When would this dense kid get it through his head?

"W-what is?" Ryou replied, feigning stupidity.

Bakura's face grew tense as he watched his host, irritation visible on his pale face. His hand lingered over the bedside table, Ryou could not properly see what he was reaching for. _What was it? Oh, probably another knife,_ he thought. _Boring._

Bakura grasped the small knife in his hand, Ryou had been correct after all, as the pale boy closed his eyes, letting an annoyed sigh escape his lips. Sure, it would hurt, but it wasn't a surprise anymore.

But.

Bakura thrust the knife straight into the exposed joint of the boy's elbow, tearing through the flesh, muscle - the bones were the only thing stopping the knife.

_WHAT! _Ryou screamed, tears forming in his eyes. This wasn't – This wasn't..never did-

Never like this!

Blood gushed forth from his pierced wound, flooding past the knife, running over the blankets as it seeped into the rough material.

"_Thank you!" _ Bakura laughed, his eyes wide with fascination. Finally! Finally he had stopped acting!

This was genuine! Honesty, finally!

All it had taken was a stab to one of his joints! I wonder what doing the other arm would bring out!

Bakura was excited now, his expression mad with glee, for he was done acting as well!

"Nng. What. What are you doing!" Ryou demanded, clenching his teeth from the pain as he watched Bakura rip the knife out of his flesh. "I haven't done anything! Knock it off!" This wasn't right, this wasn't right! This isn't how the game worked!

Oh god. Oh god it hurt. It hurt. The attack had been unprovoked even, his eyes watered, Why was Bakura not getting angry at him speaking this way? Something was wrong. _Wrong_.

Bakura ran around the bed, his laughter filling the dark room, the red of the alarm clock reflecting back in his brown eyes. He raised the knife again, his eyes on his host's face as he did so.

"No! Don't! Please! Bakura! I don't-" Ryou pleaded, his voice breaking as his other arm was skewered, matching his right arm, crimson tides running onto his blankets again. "S...stop..." he whimpered. He could feel the tip of the knife grating against his bones, could feel Bakura's eyes eating into his soul.

What was he doing? Why? What is this? This isn't..this isn't...

_Normal_.

"This isn't...part of..part of the game..." Ryou muttered, his eyes foggy with tears as he thrashed against his bindings, forcing more blood from his gaping wounds. "Bakura...this isn't.." He was getting lightheaded, blinking furiously to clear his eyes as his teeth chattered, fear growing in the pit of his stomach. Fear? Why? He hadn't been afraid before...

Bakura's Cheshire grin returned to his lips as he leaned over the bed, putting his arms on either side of the boy's head, leaning down to whisper softly in his ears.

"This isn't a game anymore, boy."

His tone froze the boy's heart, he felt his resolve breaking. No. No, what did that mean?

"W...what?" Ryou grew more drowsy as Bakura released his bindings, pulling the knife from the soft tissue of the crook of his elbow to cut away the ropes, he pulled Ryou aloft by his hair, throwing him to the floor with a loud thud.

"You heard me." Bakura hissed, his voice a low growl as he watched his host struggling to rise.

Ryou pushed his back against the wall, pushing the heels of his feet against the floor as he forced himself up, trying to stop the bleeding in either of his arms, covering the wounds with the opposite hand of each. "Why...why?" Tears flowed freely from the quivering mass that was Ryou, as he glared hatefully at his yami, his chin held high in defiance.

"Game's over, yadonushi." Bakura said, clicking his tongue along the roof of his mouth. This was exciting! So exciting! _Look how he bleeds! Satisfying, satisfaction at last! _

_Now_. Bakura thought solemnly. _It's time to train the dog, properly this time._

Ryou snarled at him, his whole body quivering with a mixture of fear and anger, all directed at his smug looking yami.

"_THIS IS NOT A GAME! THIS IS REAL LIFE! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME_!" His panicked voice rose high above his yami's chuckles, Bakura stretched out his arms to his sides, shrugging as he held the knife in his hand. The darker side shook his head, grimacing as he watched his host fall into a panicked rage.

"You're right, yadonushi." He said, his voice dancing with mirth. "This is real life." He leaned inward toward the boy, their foreheads almost touching as he spoke. "And its about time you took your role more seriously."

Role? What was he talking about? He just finished saying this wasn't a game! Ryou shuddered, staunching the blood with his hands. "What are you talking about!" He demanded, his voice shrill with pain.

"Your role, little Ryou." Bakura continued, gripping one of Ryou's hands and wrapping his fingers around his elbow. He squeezed painfully, causing Ryou's knees to buckle beneath him.

"Nng – Stop! Stop it..." Ryou sagged back against the wall, blinded by pain as his wound was opened anew from the pressure of his yami's hand. _When would he stop? This was too much..too much..Stop..please. I can't take this._

Bakura scoffed, ignoring his host as he mimicked his previous motion with Ryou's other arm, when his host's legs gave out completely, Bakura removed his hands, letting the boy fall to the floor, painfully teetering on his knees as he looked up blearily at his yami.

"That's it." Bakura said admirably, bringing the knife to his lips, lapping off the blood that had not dried.

Ryou barely heard him, his face twisted in pain. How could Bakura hurt him like this..he didn't deserve this. It hurts. It hurts.."Whats...it..?"

Bakura grinned down at him, running a hand through his host's hair almost affectionately.

"This is how you're _supposed_ to look. This is how you _will_ look at me."

_Welcome to real life._


End file.
